


you say love is a hell you cannot bear

by wyverary



Series: i'm choosing my confessions [2]
Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: 90's AU, Abusive Parents, Alcohol, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bi Hanschen, First Kiss, Hanschen Melitta and Thea are siblings, Love Confessions, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 15:16:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9130099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyverary/pseuds/wyverary
Summary: it's summer 1996 and they're within each other's reach(aka i didnt mean 2 make this a series but get ready)





	

**Author's Note:**

> listen my dude i truly put efort into this also my keyboar suks  
> btw this is the "...cool" fic i was talking abt on twitter  
> title from "sleep to dream" by fiona apple (technically not released when this takes place but shhh)
> 
> most warnings are in the tags but additionally warnings for implied csa & mentioned physical abuse, vomiting, maybe internalized biphobia idk dude, & mentions of homophobia
> 
> lol its like 11 pm rn & im probably gonna reread this & find so many things wrong wth it L O L

Hanschen’s hands are trembling. They haven't trembled like this since he was twelve, since he was scared to go to church at the end of each week. He’s long since grown up.

Ernst is smiling at him and he wants to throw up or kiss him and he really can’t decide. He’d rather sit through a service (but not what comes after) than curse this boy in whatever way he knows he will (the way he knows he has). He’s thinking it probably isn't Otto’s fault that the milk turned to butter.

* * *

Hanschen probably won't open up, and Ernst knows this. He won't push, though he does wonder if his silence is read as him preferring he stay closed off. He imagines it would seem more convenient for both of them, but it’s not the truth. Real convenience would be never knowing each other in the first place. 

Ernst coughs up cigarette smoke as he burns.

* * *

He’s drunk and he knows that Ernst knows and he knows that Ernst is okay with it. Ernst is okay with him. He’s not a good boy, he’s just okay. And drunk off his parents’ wine on the side of the street. 

Hanschen knows he likes boys and he knows he likes girls and he knows he’s an anomaly even among other anomalies, but none of the details matter when he’s around Ernst. It’s terrifying what kind of effect he has on Hanschen. He isn’t supposed to be this weak. He’s supposed to take what he can get and leave when he has it. He never wanted love, but it took its chances on him.

He’s throwing up now, onto the cold pavement, and Ernst is rubbing his back like he cares (because he does), and Hanschen’s spit is blood red, and the last thing he sees are Ernst’s eyes or the glare of the streetlights or both (he can’t tell). He’s in his bed and Ernst is gone when he wakes up but his sisters aren’t and they’re keeping him safe.

* * *

Ernst is sitting in a park swing, listening to Hanschen, and he sees the visions of pious faces and spilled milk and pearls between deft fingers. He doesn’t know whether he believes it or not. He isn’t sure what he believes in besides Hanschen himself. Even God didn’t stand a chance. Ernst says a false prayer in his head.

Hanschen isn’t talking anymore, is instead playing a Nirvana cassette on his tape player. Now he’s rocking his head to the beat. Ernst can’t tell if he did something wrong; all he really did was nod at what he said to him. 

They would have kissed, though. He knows it. Ernst didn’t stop staring at him and he had to notice eventually and when he did he moved in closer and Ernst couldn’t help but peek at his lips and

“No.”

The swing was empty in a rush.

Ernst slumped against the seat of his swing and muttered a false prayer. The summer night was cold now.

* * *

Nobody had seen them, Hanschen knows. Nobody except Ernst and himself, some of the worst people to cast judgement on him. Was he not his own worst enemy? He could be a dick and say it’s Melchior Gabor, who still regularly listens to vinyls and wears fake ripped clothing to school each day in “rebellion”. He could look deeper and realize it’s his father who’s to blame for most of his problems (how do you keep your son holy? you beat the hell out of him).

He has to be honest with himself, though. He’s the one putting himself in these situations. He’s the one getting close to the things he craves only to pull away and burn in private. 

Thea and Mel would be angry with him if he told them these thoughts, but not in the same way their father got mad; they were sad, not full of rage, and they wouldn’t hurt him. He wants to be able to protect them, only he knows he can’t win. They know it, too. They don’t hold it against him.

* * *

They’re together again, in the parking lot of the local 7/11, only they haven’t made it out of Ernst’s pickup truck. 

It should be easy for them to forget about the other night and move on. Should. Instead they’re stock-still and their pulses are running wild. 

“How do you think we’ll feel about this when we’re forty-five?” Hanschen asks out of the blue. He’s frightened of the answer.

“About what, exactly?” says Ernst. He’s frightened of the question.

Hanschen takes a dive and kisses him. After they part, they don’t talk again for a little while.

Ernst isn’t looking at him when he pipes up, “I guess...it feels how you want it to feel. I can’t know how you’ll feel, myself.”

“You can’t?” he asks.

“No.” 

“So, you don’t want…?”

“Of course I do. I just mean I don’t know if you would regret this or not.”

“I can’t promise I won’t.”

“I know and I love you anyway.”

“...cool.”

He sounds stupid, and this feels like the verbal equivalent of fumbling for a light switch in the dark, but Ernst doesn’t seem to mind, just gives him a soft smile and kisses him again. 

They spend the rest of the night in the 7/11 parking lot, in the backseat of Ernst’s truck, sleeping together as innocently as two boys together could be considered in a small conservative town. They wake up and everything is beautiful. They don’t regret taking a step.

**Author's Note:**

> what can i say. im a sucker for a crappy ending.


End file.
